Obsessive Compulsive
by Stewed Wombat
Summary: It takes a while to get used to, but the fact is, Bruce Wayne’s bank vault is larger than Texas.


**AN: **Just a little oneshot I wrote when I was bored today. Anyway, I decided to upload it.

I KNOW that Kori and Rachel are out-of-character. But this is an AU fiction, and since they aren't aliens, half-demons, or new to the Earth in any way possible, they'd be acting normal. Also, it may seem as if Kori and Rae switch places a few times in their attitude. My writing skills haven't been tested for a long time, so it's bit sketchy.

This ficlet was totally random. Please don't expect anything to make sense.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Teen Titans, things would be a LOT different than they are now. Meaning that Rae and Gar would've hooked up, Star would still be completely oblivious to her attraction to Robin (or totally obsessed), and Jinx would take a larger role in the series. And I think you all know that if any of us fanfic writers owned TT, it wouldn't be cancelling.

**Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

* * *

"Remind me again why we're doing this?"

Rachel and I were standing in front of my mirror, applying Harry Potter scars, monobrows and fake moustaches. I had done this many a time, but Rachel never wanted to come with me. This time, though, I had managed to drag her out of her room. And she still wasn't listening.

"Because…" I paused. Why **were** we doing this? It had been my weekly ritual for years now to put on a pathetic disguise, go on my morning jog and accidentally wander a mile out of my way to pass Dick Grayson's mansion. And I still didn't know exactly why I did it. "Because we are, okay?"

Rachel shrugged, and frowned. Her eyeliner-monobrow went down with the skin on her forehead, and I couldn't help but laugh. She looked idiotic, decked out in her baggy army ensemble, cap and fake facial hair. But at least she didn't look like herself – well, apart from the purple hair, which she wouldn't let me die brown. No one else in town but her had purple hair, and I had a suspicion that dragging her along would ruin my ritual.

But I didn't care, because soon Rachel would feel the tingling sensation of stalking a cute boy, and almost drowning in snow at the same time. I looked at myself in the mirror again – I had a pink hoodie on, to hide my hair, and the scar placed on the middle of my forehead resembled Harry Potter's so much that I almost looked like Ginny in obsessive compulsive mode.

I grinned, and for the heck of it, stroked the fake goatee that rested on my chin. "We're ready," I said, grabbing my bag. Rachel clumsily followed me out the door.

**

* * *

**

"It's freezing," Rachel observed as we trudged our way through the park. I agreed with her, silently, but there was no way that I was going to voice my opinion. After all, I was the one in the hoodie. She was just wearing a cheap zip-up of my sister's; and the zip had broken long ago.

For the next twenty minutes, we walked in silence. It wasn't the comfortable silence you'd expect after seeing lots of movies and reading plenty of books – if anything, it was the type of silence that occurs when you're so cold your mouth would turn to ice if you opened it. The crunching of sticks beneath our boots only added to the atmosphere, as we were ankle-deep in snow and we hadn't seen a single stick since autumn.

Just when I noticed that Rachel's cheeks were flushed (which never happens, ever) the street where every rich socialite in town lives came into view. Everywhere I looked, there were mansions and frozen swimming pools, little children in stylish formal wear playing in front yards while waiting for their parents' limo to come and whisk them away to an award ceremony of some sort or another. It was heaven on earth – and quite possibly, hell on earth, too.

An elderly gentleman trimming the hedges in a front garden looked up and waved at Rachel and me. Rachel's cheeks were reddening by the second as she glanced around the street, but I am pretty certain that she wasn't blushing.

"Wow," is all that came from her lips. I nodded my approval of her gesture, and returned to observing the families that I could see through windows, sitting at a table of some sort, eating breakfast. I checked my watch; it was 7:30 in the morning. Good. On Saturdays Dick _always_ woke up at 7:30.

As we neared the end of the incredibly long street, Wayne Manor came into view. Rachel's steady breathing stopped for a few seconds in awe. When the windows to the highest room visible were flung open, however, and a shirtless boy appeared as a blob to our eyesight, her breath came gushing out and, all at once, she tackled me and pulled me into a bear hug.

Which was unexpected, but really, you never know what'll happen when you're around Raven. Especially if you're around her when we're observing Dick Grayson, shirtless. Even if we can't exactly make out his facial features, and he was still incredibly far away, we were both excited. I mean, he isn't labelled the sexiest guy in school for no reason at all.

Sheepishly, she unglued herself from me and we carried on walking.

Well, actually, walking isn't the truth.

We were _sprinting_ down the street and, I assure you, Rachel is an extremely fast runner. It took me a few minutes to catch up, two seconds to glare at her, thirty seconds to regain my breath, and four minutes to notice the fact that she hadn't been paying attention to my dramatic display, but staring up, instead.

We had reached the gate to Wayne Manor, and I hadn't even noticed.

"Holy crap," Rachel whispered, running her fingers along the brass gates. "I knew that he was wealthy, but I didn't know that he was loaded..." She stopped abruptly, and her face reddened again.

"Don't worry, I know what you mean," I reassured her. "Yeah, he's pretty rich. It takes a while to get used to, but the fact is, Bruce Wayne's bank vault is large than Texas."

Rachel's right eyebrow slowly disappeared under her fringe. "You've seen it? Kori, you're going to get caught and charged for stalking one day, you know."

I nodded. "It's not that I can help it – and I've never actually gone inside these gates. I merely come by here every Saturday morning, wearing an itchy disguise of some sort, and when Dick looks out of the window again (fully clothed this time), I look across the street and pretend to be picking my nose."

"Gross."

"But it works."

Rachel grinned. "So, when does Dick look out of his window again? I want to be able to get a good view this time. Can I sit on your shoulders?" She seemed unfazed when I pulled out my mobile and showed her the name 'Loony Bin' on the contacts list.

"That'd be extremely awkward when I have to run with you on my shoulders, Rae."

Rachel sighed. "Okay, whatever. But can you please answer my question? When should Dick look out of his window again?"

I glanced at my watch, and my eyes flickered up to Dick's bedroom window. "He should look out and observe the richer side of Jump City in three… two…" Sure enough, as I turned around I heard Rachel squeak and begin running. My eyes widened, and I looked from the corner that Rachel had just turned, to Dick, who was turning away from his window.

"Oh, great."

**

* * *

**

On Monday, when I boarded the school bus, Rachel was staring out the window and humming. She was sitting at the back of the bus, of course, so I had to strut past a large amount of hormonal teenagers before I finally reached my friend, who, upon closer inspection, had a lazy smile painted across her jaw.

"Alright, Rae," I sighed, sitting down next to her and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "What's going on? You've been extremely giddy all weekend, and though I know why your reason was… happiness over something like that can't last this long. So spill."

Rachel looked at me in surprise. "Kori, you're here already?" I nodded, and her eyes focused a touch. "As for your question, Dick smiled at me as he passed in his car."

I couldn't help but feel jealous.

"Is that all?" I frowned. Rachel could obviously tell that I was upset.

"No. When we were picking up some kid with pink hair he came up to my window and passed me a card –" I had heard enough. I didn't want to know that Dick had given Rachel a Valentine's Card, a birthday invite, a whatever-it-was. I was being a brat, but I just couldn't help it.

"Kori? Are you listening? Anyway, he told me to deliver it to you." Rachel fished inside her bag, and pulled out a pale pink envelope. My heart skipped a few beats, and I blushed. Rachel looked on in amusement and a tinge of jealousy – but, we being friends, it was mostly amusement. "Open it," she insisted.

And I did.

True to my fantasies, a card fell into my lap. I pried it open with shaking fingers, and almost fainted when the nursery rhyme 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' was blurted out in the form of rap. Rachel's eyes glistened with joy as my cheeks went red with embarrassment, but she still insisted that I read it.

And I did.

_Kori, _it read, and I felt sick with delight.

_I'm sorry I didn't get this to you on the 14th, but I was away. So I gave this to your friend, Rachel (I think?) to deliver to you. I hope you enjoy the song; it was made especially for you. After all, Rachel told me that you love the song more than anything in the world. Kori, you are my sheep._

_Dick._

"…You are my sheep?" I grunted. I had imagined the card to be romantic and for him to be there, presenting it to me with a passionate kiss at the end. Obviously, it wasn't anywhere near as precious as I had lusted for it to be. "Is he saying I'm stupid?"

Rachel shrugged, and nearly fell over when the bus turned a corner suddenly. A boy with lime green eyes turned around and glared at her for a moment, before his glare turned into a stare and he turned back around. "I suppose," she muttered a few moments later. "What a Valentines card."

"He would've said something romantic if it weren't for you," I accused her sourly. "The last time I heard the song Baa Baa Black Sheep was when I was three!"

"So? I thought it would be… cute…" She obviously didn't understand the meaning of 'cute'. "And besides, at least he acknowledges your existence."

"He knows that you're alive, too." I sighed. "It's not all that special."

"You're missing the point."

"Am I?" I was losing my nerve. "Look, whatever Rae. I may be losing the point, but sheep's are idiotic and I was just called a sheep in a Valentines card! I deserve the right to be offended!"

"Right, okay. So… are you stalking him again this Saturday?" Rachel grinned. "I want to come again."

"Sure. We'll meet at six at my house, then?" All bitterness I held towards my friend and Dick was swept away at the thought of passing Dick's house again. You may say that I'm obsessed, but I would have to retaliate.

My OCD is hereditary.


End file.
